


love me or leave me tonight

by jeserai



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:39:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29327145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeserai/pseuds/jeserai
Summary: (Next to her, Adora touches her lip and tries to pretend that she's not still in love.)
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 154





	love me or leave me tonight

**Author's Note:**

> for ingrid <3 if i added a bit more bc it took so long yes i did <3
> 
> ((also i am aware....of the pov switch........sometimes u start writing and dont realize that u changed povs until its too late))

They’ve stopped at a red light when Catra glances over at Adora sidelong. She’s calmed down, but as she watches, Adora reaches up and scrubs a tear away from her cheek. She knows Adora too damn well to know that if asked, she’ll just say that she’s fine, so Catra pulls off of the highway at the next exit and ignores Adora’s question of where they’re going. After a few minutes, she pulls the car over on a little gravel path, the one that leads to the overlook by the cliff. They used to come here all the time when they were dating: Adora would drag Catra on a hike from the top of the cliffs to the bottom, and to ease her pouting, she’d buy them both lunch from the little snack shack so they could have a picnic before heading back up.

Now, close to midnight, and after so long, the place looks almost unfamiliar, and they’re technically...not really allowed to be here, but Adora rolls the windows down and breathes in the crisp air, looking so calm that Catra can’t help how pleased she is at her idea.

“You don’t have to lie and say that you’re okay,” she says, “not to  _ me. _ ”

Adora glances at her, probably meaning to retaliate, but—something shifts in the air, and Adora’s gaze drops down to her lips, and Catra  _ knows  _ that look, knows it all too well, and before either of them can pull away, she leans in and pulls Adora close to kiss her. It is bruising and biting and full of teeth and tongue, exactly the way Catra loves and Adora tolerates, and it’s been so  _ long  _ that she actually whines at just this. Adora’s hands shake when they come up to slide Catra’s suit jacket from her shoulders, but she seems sure when she begins to unbutton the silk shirt beneath, so Catra—lets her.

She gets as far as unzipping Adora’s dress and slipping it partway off of her body before Adora pulls back with a strangled noise. “Catra, we  _ can’t, _ ” she says, but she’s already swaying into Catra’s orbit again, and Catra shrugs completely out of her shirt and jacket, giving Adora a  _ look.  _ Adora manages to hold her gaze for mere seconds before her eyes drift down and down and down, and she inhales hard before shaking her head. “We  _ can’t. _ ”

“Can I kiss you again, at least? Your lips are still so soft…”

Adora actually  _ shivers.  _ Catra bites back a laugh and then again when she nods, but this time, Adora is careful to keep every touch chaste when she kisses Catra slow and deep. This time, Adora kisses her like she still loves her, like they never broke up, like they’re going to get married, like she never broke her promise—

Catra bites her lip hard enough that the taste of blood wells up on her tongue just for the way Adora cries out, then sits back in her seat, arms folded over her chest as she stews in ages-old anger once again.

(Next to her, Adora touches her bleeding lip and tries to pretend that she’s not still in love.)

The drive home is silent after that; Catra appears to be wracked in her own private turmoil, though by the time they pull up to their apartment, an easy grin has made its way back to her lips. She seems content with how she’s already affected Adora, and jokes around far too easily as they make their way inside, her hand resting against the curve of Adora’s hip like it still belongs there.

Adora knows that she could just as easily shift away, or give Catra a  _ look,  _ or flat out ask her to stop—knows that Catra would stop immediately if she knew that it  _ really  _ bothered her. Knows that nothing would change between them if she were to say  _ Cat, that’s too much,  _ but—

Catra’s touch is warm and so very familiar, and they’re still just a bit (or maybe more than a bit) buzzed, and it’s been so long since she’s been touched like this that Adroa  _ aches  _ for it.

So she just shifts a bit closer, resting her own hand on Catra’s shoulder as she bends down to take off her heels. Catra keeps stock still until Adora wobbles: immediately she reaches out to catch her, eyes wide as she steadies her.

And keeps her hands firmly wrapped around Adora’s waist, even when she’s steady, even when she straightens. Even without the heels, Adora is a few inches taller than Catra; she wets her lips just to stall for a few more precious moments before she opens her mouth to tell her that whatever she’s trying to do, it’s not working. But Catra’s eyes track the movement, and like this, it is almost inevitable, the way she rises on her toes to kiss Adora slow and desperate as if in a trance. And Adora  _ melts. _

It’s like magic, the way Catra kisses her. It must be, with how the touch of her lips sends bolts of electricity shivering up and down Adora’s spine. The press of her body and all of its soft curves warms Adora from the inside out, and despite the fact that this is tearing down every fragile wall, every single boundary that they’ve made over the past few months, Adora welcomes it, takes in the scent of Catra’s perfume and the soft of her lips as she frames Catra’s cheek with her hands just to feel her smile.

She already knows where this is going when Catra pulls away just enough to breathe the question into her neck, and the push-and-tug stumble to their (now Adora’s) bedroom is still familiar despite how long it’s been. Adora knows that she’s breathing hard—Catra is too—and despite the way Catra that is lying beneath her now (brows raised, mouth twisted into a sharp grin, eyes alight in a challenge that Adora wants so badly to accept), her hands still tremble as they fall to the bottom button of her shirt. Catra’s never been shy, but her cheeks are stained pink as Adora undresses her slow, and goosebumps pattern every bit of skin as inch by inch, her body is revealed.

She’s gorgeous like this, always has been, but Adora drinks in everything she’s missed (the thumb sized divot by her hip from an old surgery, the freckles scattered across her torso like constellations, the fine trail of hair that disappears beneath the hem of her pants) and everything new (a fading bruise, two glinting sets of silver just above her hipbones and Adora doesn’t know  _ how  _ she’d managed to hide  _ those _ —)

“They’re still sensitive,” Catra’s voice catches on a laugh; she must see the look on Adora’s face because she leans up and up to kiss her again, holding her close and keeping her there.

“You always look so gorgeous,” Adora breathes. “I don’t know how, but...Catra…”

Catra’s cheeks flush and she shakes her head before laying back down again. Adora’s gaze is immediately drawn down to the flat of her stomach and the lines of her abs. “You’re one to talk.”

Adora decides to ignore that (did Catra just call her beautiful? Does she still…) and shimmies down further until she’s hunched over her ex and carefully pulling her pants down. Catra barely helps; even when Adora makes a frustrated noise in the back of her throat, all Catra does is raise her hips and laugh squeaky and bright.

And finally, finally, she has Catra just about undressed. Her silk jacket is still bunched up around her arms, and Adora can see how tense she is in the harsh line of her shoulders and the crook of her smile, now just a bit forced. She always has hated being the only one to be so vulnerable; Adora fumbles for her hand to hold as she settles between the spread of her thighs. It’s been...an embarrassingly long time since she’s done this, and maybe Catra can tell by the way she rubs her thumb across her knuckles.

Adora steels herself and takes a deep, audible breath in, a smile lingering on her lips at the way Catra squirms. “You still smell the same,” and she _does._ Catra’s always smelled just a bit sweet like fruit, and this close, Adora can smell _all_ of her so strongly. “You smell good, Cat. All of you.”

Catra whines in embarrassment but only spreads her legs further; her hips tilt invitingly up and she  _ gasps  _ when Adora finally dips in and lets her mouth drag against her inner thighs, collecting stray smears of her wetness with the tip of her tongue. The bittersweet taste of her is familiar, achingly so, and at this point, Adora doesn’t know who is more eager: Catra, who is jerking her hips up and up as she makes little frustrated noises, or herself, who needs needs  _ needs. _

She’d intended on teasing, to make Catra fall apart and  _ beg,  _ but Adora finds herself surging up and spreading her legs even wider as she really sets to work, eating Catra out with deep, broad strokes of her tongue, no teasing, no stopping, the way that she likes best. And even still, Catra tugs at her hair and whines in wordless demands for more, so Adora kisses the hood of her clit as she breathes in and in and in before thrusting out her hand. Like always, Catra reads her so damn effortlessly; she rolls over and fumbles for the little bottle of lube in the nightstand table before tossing it into her hand. She’s practically vibrating with how excited she is, biting her lower lip raw as she watches Adora slick her two fingers with lube.

“You okay, kitty?”

Catra tenses at the petname, then sinks back into the pillows, breathing out a shuddering sigh before she murmurs, “Yeah, I’m good. Promise”

Adora nods (even though Catra can’t see it) and leans in to kiss the beauty mark on her inner thigh. “You want one or two?”

“One.”

Adora nods again and settles back down, rolling her eyes when Catra tosses her the vibrator hidden behind her pillow. But yeah, it’s probably better like this anyway; Catra always has needed a bit of distraction when she’s first being filled. Her hips jerk up when Adora turns the vibrator to its highest setting right away, and her back arches when Adora simultaneously presses it to her clit and eases her first finger in.

“ _ Oh… _ ”

Adora could spend an eternity just listening to Catra’s noises: her choked off whimpers and her surprised gasps and her shuddering moans as Adora relearns how to play her body and melt her to pieces. She could spend forever watching Catra lose herself in feeling: the way her back arches and her eyes screw shut, the delicate part of her lips and the way her hands fist around empty air, how her legs spread and her hips sway into and against Adora’s touch. She could spend the rest of her life here, between Catra’s legs, loving her so tender that she only remembers her name.

As if reading her mind, Catra gasps, “ _ Adora, _ ” in a clear warning. But Adora remembers what it means when her thighs begin to twitch like this, knows what’s coming when her hand shoots down to grab her wrist, knows that she’s  _ close  _ when her whole body locks up.

“Come on, baby. I wanna see you come.”

Catra shakes her head, but Adora just laughs and slides her second finger  _ all  _ the way in, presses the vibrator against her  _ hard,  _ leans in and sinks her teeth into her shoulder and Catra’s  _ gone,  _ Adora’s name falling from her lips like a prayer as she clutches her tight and comes and comes.

Adora holds Catra close until her trembling subsides and her breathy noises fade into quiet; there is a moment that almost turns awkward when they pull away and look at each other, but... _ something  _ has changed now, and Catra’s face softens as she stretches out her arms for Adora to easily fall into. She’s sweaty, but Adora cuddles into her anyway and listens to her heartbeat pounding away as Catra begins to card her fingers through her hair. If she closes her eyes and really  _ pretends,  _ Adora can almost make herself believe that they’re still dating.

But then she opens her eye, and Catra clears her throat and shifts, and the illusion is broken. “Yeah?”

Catra doesn’t speak until Adora twists up to look at her; she’s not sure what she’s expecting, but it’s certainly not the hesitance, the nervousness on her face. “I...what are we, Adora?”

She asks so bluntly that Adora is completely taken aback, and Catra must take her silence as an answer because her whole face shutters over, and she moves to sit up, staring at some point behind Adora as she undoubtedly tries to think of how to get out of this situation. But that’s not what Adora wants, and it’s  _ clearly  _ not what Catra wants, and all Adora  _ wants  _ is to fall asleep like this, tangled in Catra’s arms, wants to wake up in the morning and have her there, wants Catra to  _ stay. _

“Please. Catra, just  _ stay. _ ”

Catra’s whole body stiffens as Adora reaches out and cups her cheeks with her hands. “Adora, I need to know—please just  _ tell  _ me.”

And how to say  _ everything?  _ That she hopes that Catra is still in love with her, that she’d give anything to have her stay? That yes, neither of them will be able to forget their past, but that she wants to move past that together? That she wants to call Catra her girlfriend again, hold her hand in front of their friends and kiss whenever they want?

“I want you to stay,” Adora says again, “I want...I want my Catra back. I want to grow with you, and if we can’t do that, if you don’t want that, that’s okay so long as you stay  _ with  _ me, I just—”

With a strangled noise that almost sounds like a sob, Catra rushes forwards and catches Adora’s lips in a desperate kiss. Adora doesn’t realize that Catra is crying until she feels wet on her fingertips, and when she pulls back to wipe her tears away, she finds her friend (ex—no, her  _ girlfriend _ ) smiling through her tears.

“I never thought…”

“Yeah, I know.”

Even with how soft her expression is, the look Catra shoots Adora is deadly. Or would be, if her glare didn’t immediately collapse into another grin. “I’ll break up with you  _ right  _ now. Would you let me  _ finish? _ ” (Adora very graciously nods. Catra just rolls her eyes.)

“I was  _ going  _ to say that I never thought that you’d still want me, especially after…” Catra grimaces, likely remembering their breakup and the strained weeks that had led up to it, the months of tiptoeing around each other and arguing and periods of stony silence after. “I mean, we agreed to be friends, and we  _ were,  _ but I  _ missed  _ you.”

Adora skates the pad of her thumb against Catra’s cheek; Catra leans into the gentle touch, eyes slipping shut. A smile bubbles up on Adora’s lips as she realizes how  _ happy  _ Catra is now, and he stretches up to press a gentle kiss to the corner of her mouth, where her dimple is. “I never stopped loving you,” she says, and it’s true. After everything,  _ everything,  _ she’d never stopped loving Catra.

And now…now she’ll never have to stop, not ever again.

“We’ll be fine, Cat. We’re gonna be just fine, I promise.”


End file.
